A Semiotics of Loss
by divulse456
Summary: What perished in the wreckage of the SSV Normandy? What has everyone lost? Join Tali'Zorah nar Rayya as she tries to figure out what she's been missing since that night, how to live without it, and how to get it back. Chapter 1.1 now complete!
1. Prologue I

**Prologue: I**

Chaos. Seconds after the ship-wide status update displayed "Evasive Maneuvers", the SSV Normandy lurched violently, sending Tali'Zorah nar Rayya to her knees. The Tantalus core halted its rotation and gleamed a sickly yellow, sparks arcing across the engineering bay. Three of the large coupling arrays burst in succession, the echoes of each report rolling into the next. Each severed array shed raw energy from the core, causing the alloy casing to shrivel and melt. Smoke and drops of liquid metal filled the air. Tali felt a pressure in her stomach as the ship's artificial gravity cut out. For a split second the engineering bay was a picture of hell; wide-eyed organics surrounded by fire, fume, and the inescapable fury of a vengeful machine. She could see Engineer Adams floating backwards, holding his face where it had smashed into his console. Her eyes gleamed, two points of light in her tinted mask; wide, breathless.

After but a moment the ship's on-board redundancies were able to compensate. The Tantalus corrected its cycle, feeding power to the damage control. Healthy, blue Mass Effect fields encased the live ends of the shattered couplings, shielding the crew. The artificial gravity returned, again sending Adams to the deck. Tali, nimble on her feet, braced herself against her console, already trying to run the appropriate diagnostic routines. Within moments the other Alliance engineers helped Adams to his feet and took up their stations.

"Tali," Adams called, wiping blood from his mouth, "report. Is the drive stable?"

"I think so," she replied, her three-fingered hands dancing around the haptic interface. "All anomalies have been auto-purged from the drive core."

The ship's heart flashed into radiance, and Tali could feel the artificial gravity system engaging its compensation protocols. Joker had engaged the sub-light propulsion systems, and the ship's VI was stabilizing the interior of the ship against the murderous inertial forces. She tried to concentrate on the core's readings. Where only moments ago there had been calm, now there was dread. What had she forgotten? What routine bit of maintenance had she overlooked that she now had no time to perform? For the moment, she could find none.

The Alliance engineers were trained to keep the Tantalus core in peak output and efficiency, Tali was not. However, several months aboard the Normandy had allowed her to learn both from the highly trained engineers, as well as the drive itself. Tali was a quarian, by necessity forced into mechanical aptitude. But even among quarians, Tali was exceptional. Her intuition mystified her so-called peers and superiors alike, quarians no less than her new human friends. All her intuition was brought to bear, feeling the ebb and pulse of the beloved heart of the Normandy.

The slight pressure in her stomach changed direction again and again, making her feel slightly queasy. Her envirosuit's internal pressurization zones lessened the effect that she knew the human crew were feeling in its entirety. Pride as Alliance crew, experience as victors at the Battle of the Citadel, and adrenaline from this new, unknown danger kept the humans at their posts, striving to keep the Tantalus drive at peak output despite the damage.

In an instant, the deck rose up sharply as the Normandy's hull buckled. Tali could feel that something was wrong. The Tantalus flickered, shifting to an angry red. Her quarian intuition told her that it was overtaxed, that there was not enough power for the automated damage control systems. Her native gift told her that the Normandy had broken her back. Fire erupted through a three-meter wide breach in the hull, engulfing Engineer Gladstone before the VI could erect a barrier between the bay and the vacuum of space.

A resounding groan reverberated through the deck. Tali could feel it in her teeth, in her eyes, and in her gut; the Normandy was crying out it's warning, "Go now!" She stared at her diagnostics in disbelief, the most advanced drive core in the known galaxy was spooling down, its output coming in fits of unstable pulses. The containment field was also weakening, soon the engineering bay would be filled with radiation.

"Adams! We have to go!" she cried.

He tried to reply, tried to reassure her and the other engineers, but nothing came out. The look on his face showed he knew exactly what was going on. His vast experience told him there was no coming back from this sort of damage. Before he could compose himself to issue an order, the general evac flashed on every display screen in the engineering bay. Yellow screens and haptic interfaces flicked in and out of life as power arrived from the broken core, dancing in his tear-filled eyes like a fitful nebula. With a sigh he nodded. "Go now. There is nothing we can do for Gladstone."

Tali sobbed involuntarily. How many times had he helped her and Adams decode alien technology she, Dr. T'soni, and Shepard had found on some remote planet? How many times had they boarded derelict ships or space platforms together, in search of resources to aid in the fight against Saren and his geth? She could not watch as he fell, immolated, and she could not bear to look back as she turned to the doors leading to the cargo hold.

Small arms, foodstuffs, and debris littered the floor as they passed through the blast doors into the cargo bay. The contents of both the Requisitions Officer's stock and the ship's armory were scattered about. Several breaches in the bulkhead were visible, each glazed over with a wavering Mass Effect field. The deck itself was buckled in places, having completely ruptured through the center of the bay in a five meter gash perpendicular to the keel. Only Garrus was still in the hold, fumbling with one arm to put on his helmet. The Turian's other arm hung limp at his side. He leaned against the Mako rover, now several meters away from the deactivated clamps that used to hold it fast to the deck. He nodded toward the engineering crew as he hefted his sniper rifle.

"Garrus, what's going on?" Tali asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I've heard nothing from the bridge, but the Mako came loose and almost crushed me, I was out of it for a few moments. Williams made it to the elevator when she couldn't find me under the rover."

"She left you?"

"She knows her duty. With Alenko gone she's in command of the marines. It's her job to get everyone off safe. Besides, I heard the elevator shaft rupture, it's possible she never made it up to the crew deck. We'll have to use the maintenance hatches."

Tali fought to hold back another sob. She was not close with Gunnery Chief Williams. The Alliance soldier had never much cared for non-human species, but she had grown to respect them over time as allies. Like any good soldier, she put aside her personal feelings and protected her allies from their enemies. In the heat of combat, few could stand with Williams, reliable bulwark, proof against any enemy advance. It was this strength that eared her the respect of Urdnot Wrex, who spent so much time in the cargo bay during their pursuit of Saren. It was this strength that won her the heart of her commanding officer, the only man ever to support the weight of galactic civilization on his shoulders and remain standing. She could not be dead. If Williams fell, there was no chance for anyone.

"Hey, snap out of it quarian," Garrus said. "The girl who put a bullet in Saren's head shouldn't be zoning out at a time like this. You first into the duct."

Tali could not speak, so she just turned towards the access hatch. Garrus did not understand, she thought. Fighting against Saren was combat. It was easy to face an enemy you could see, to put your life on the line. The turian knew that well, but what he did not know was the pain a young quarian could feel leaving her home behind. The sensitivity was an integral, unwanted part of her culture.

In a few moments she pulled herself out of the maintenance duct. She tried to get her bearings as the Normandy again shuddered under the attack of an unknown enemy. Fire was everywhere, the heat reaching even through her suit. Garrus emerged from behind her and stooped to help Engineer Adams.

"Quickly Tali, the escape shuttles!"

Across the crew deck she could see Liara helping Dr. Chakwas through the round door of a shuttle. Tali was relieved the two were unharmed. She had great respect for the young asari, both for her academic expertise as well as her reliability under pressure. Often, during the chase after Saren, it was Liara and Tali who accompanied Shepard. Liara's mastery of biotics had proven the difference in many dangerous situations. Liara was awkward and standoffish, but never treater Tali with disrespect.

The ship heaved again, knocking everyone about. Tali could feel the air pressure drop sharply until she hear the blast doors leading to the CIC slam to. The gravity went haywire and fire filled much of the crew chambers. She stumbled as fast as she could across uneven deck to the nearest shuttle.

She could not see the faces of the two crew members inside, but they reached for her to pull her through the door. She stopped, seeing out of the corner of her eye, and far down the bay of sleeper pods, an obscured N7 logo. In slow motion, Shepard tossed a fire extinguisher to Williams. As she caught it he ordered her to continue moving the crew onto the shuttles. The chaos of the ship kept Tali from hearing the reply. A moment later, she clearly heard Shepard's voice, "I'll take care of Joker."

Garrus leaned into her from behind, pulling a choking Adams with him. "Get in the shuttle Tali, we've got to get off the Normandy!" She pulled her eyes away from Williams and Shepard, knowing the Gunnery Chief would be reluctant to obey. When true danger was at hand few commanding officers would put the safety of every last crew member above their own. But humans were strange, and Shepard was the strangest of them.

As she pulled the seat restraints down over her head, Tali heard Williams' voice shout from nearby, "Everybody in! Go! Go! Go!" A sharp explosion erupted just outside the shuttle, killing one of the crew members running towards escape. As the door slid shut, Tali could see the twisted body. She pressed her hands to her mask, sobbing, feeling utterly powerless. The lights in the shuttle flashed green, and the small pod rocketed out of its port in the side of the Normandy. Tali, Garrus, Adams, and the others were safe from the dying ship, but none could guess what would become of them as they drifted away from the the Normandy in its final throes.


	2. Prologue II

Prologue: II

Time passed slowly in the cramped evac shuttle. There was nothing for the escapees to do but wait. Each pod was little more than a short-term life-support system, five seats, and emergency rations surrounded by a thin armor shell. As the hours passed, each passenger could only wonder about what had happened. They could no more discern the chaotic destruction of their home than they could stare through the walls of their pod.

Was it a geth attack? How were they detected with the stealth systems engaged? Will the attackers hunt down and kill or capture any survivors? These questions and more beleaguered the mind, dampened the spirit. Finally, as each passenger on the lonely shuttle realized they were still alive to ponder such things, one final question became more pressing than the rest: will the Alliance come for them?

Tali looked around her. Engineer Adams sat next to her, dozing. His face was bruised badly and his uniform singed in many places. Other than minor cuts and scrapes the Chief Engineer had been lucky. Garrus sat across from her. He had removed his helmet and sat staring at the ceiling of the pod. His left arm was cradled in his lap; he winced periodically as he probed it with his right hand, but in his reverie he kept testing it. The turian was difficult to get along with, and did not have a high opinion of quarians, but Tali still did not like to see someone she had worked so closely with in discomfort.

"Is your arm alright Garrus?" she asked.

He took his avian eyes from the ceiling and trained them on her, blinking a few times before the question registered. "It's nothing serious. When the clamps holding the Mako to the deck gave out the damn thing nearly crushed me. Luckily its own inertial stabilizers were fine, so it didn't roll over on me, just slammed me to the deck below it and knocked me senseless for a few minutes." His eyes seemed to soften slightly, an odd thing in a turian. "Were you hurt at all? You seemed a little disoriented while we were trying to get out."

Tali looked away from his raptor gaze, slightly ashamed. "I was unharmed, but... it's difficult to explain. The second I realized the Normandy was not going to survive, I almost gave up. On the flotilla, losing a ship is a terrible thing. If it's sudden, entire families can be wiped out. If it's slow, all the other ships are burdened by providing for the crew, straining resources even more. For a quarian, losing a ship does not just represent casualties in battle, but a threat to our very existence as a people. I... I'm no Alliance soldier, but I love... loved the Normandy. And now we're alone... and..."

Garrus leaned forward. "Tali, keep it together. The Alliance will find us. Think of what the Normandy represents. Her distress probe will bring the entire fleet. Lucky for us, Shepard is the most famous human in the galaxy." He leaned back and looked at the ceiling again, musing aloud, "He'll save all of our lives just by being here. How can one man do it, time and again?"

Tali could not help but smile under her helmet. Garrus was right, to a point. The galaxy was such a destructive place, Saren had used that fact; indeed, some would say he embodied it. Commander Shepard was the opposite side of the coin. He granted life to those who could not guarantee it for themselves, for those who wanted a better galaxy. But he was only a single person, not a god. He could not give life to those who chose death. "Garrus," she asked, "did you ever talk to the Commander about Dr. Saleon?"

"What? What made you think of that at a time like this?"

"It's just... nothing." She looked away, passing a hand over her mask.

Garrus could see that she was upset, but did not understand quarians very well. What could have prompted a question about the death of the mad doctor aboard the MSV Fedele? Maybe answering her question would bring some sort of comfort, although its exact source was beyond him. "We only spoke of it once," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "He had gone through a great deal to convince me that bringing him in was the right thing to do. You were there yourself to see what came of the attempt. A few days later, I asked Shepard what the point had been. I had planned to kill him from the start, and nothing he said could have changed the outcome."

Tali looked up, her mask showing but a slight quiver in her luminescent eyes. "What did he say to you?"

"He cuffed me on the shoulder and said it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game. Then he just walked away. I didn't really understand what he meant at the time, not until after the fight against Saren and Sovereign was over."

A quick bark of a laugh came from Engineer Adams, who had woken up during the conversation. "Only the commander," he said, shaking his head. "You'll realize that for some of us, turian, the end does not always justify the means. But for even fewer of us, the intent behind the means is the most important thing, fail or succeed. It's a rare thing for us, but I've never met an alien for whom it was true. It's not an easy way to live."

Garrus shook his head, "No, it's not. I'm not sure I could do it. But I've learned a lot from him, mostly about myself." He laughed quietly, "Once we get a new ship, maybe he'll have some new lessons for us."

The conversation fell to silence, each left to their own thoughts. Tali had heard what she needed. Shepard tried. He reached out to the doctor, but the doctor chose death. Nevertheless, the hand was offered, and she fervently hoped the same saving hand would be offered to her. She drifted into an exhausted sleep.

Swirling images of the past year flooded her mind; a close-quarters gunfight in a wards alley, the first nights of terrifying silence aboard the Normandy, smoking geth chassis strewn about, their hissing an eerie counterpoint to an ancient quarian lament filling the Solcrum night.

***

Haunting notes faded to a quiet hum, tickling her consciousness. She wanted the somber melody back, but it fell away as she herself was pulled upward. Tali woke with a start. The sound that banished her music was an Alliance IFF protocol sounding through the short-range communicator on the interior wall of her escape shuttle. She looked around. Garrus sat erect, eagerly awaiting voice comms. Adams and the other two Alliance soldiers were looking around at each other, trying to hold back smiles. She let out a long sigh, relieved to have slept through most of the wait, overjoyed at the speed of the Alliance response. The communicator crackled to life with a human voice.

"Escape shuttle N, O, R, tack, zero, six, authorize biometrics code inquiry."

Adams reached over to the transmit key. "Authorization confirmed, Alliance code seven, zero, seven, seven, five."

White lights lit the interior of the pod and the pressure fluctuated slightly for a moment. Seconds later the communicator returned to life. "Identities confirmed. Engineer Adams, this is the SSV Perugia. We are five minutes out from your position. Reengage seat restraints and prepare for retrieval."

Tali wanted to ask about the other shuttles, but knew that Alliance protocols would not allow any answers until they were safely aboard the cruiser. Seconds passed, each seeming longer than the last. Garrus joked to Adams, "We've been in this thing for almost 16 hours. Why does the last few minutes seem worse than the entire ride?"

The pod was aboard the Perugia within a few minutes, after a few seconds of lurching about which felt disturbingly similar to the frenzied motions of the Normandy in her final hour. As Tali emerged into the bright lights of the sizable docking bay of the cruiser she looked around, hoping to see all six shuttles. Only three besides her own were made fast to the deck by large clamping apparatus. The Normandy survivors lay about, the hale resting, the wounded being tended by the Perugia's ample medical staff.

Tali's vision wavered as everything passed in slow motion. She saw only snapshots; wounded soldiers on the floor, Adams shaking hands with a Perugia officer, medics fighting with Garrus to get him on a gurney. She moved about slowly, aimlessly, hoping to see more of her friends, never seeing enough. Here, an engineer, there, a CIC technician. Here, Chief Williams leaning against the pod she arrived in... Tali stared dumbly.

"Yes?" Williams asked.

Tali shook her head, "N-nothing. I was just thinking... I mean... I'm relieved that you made it, relieved for everyone who's here. Is there any word on the other two pods?"

Williams blinked, surprised the quarian seemed so happy about her well-being, then smiled a little, thinking that Shepard was right; aliens could surprise you with how human their emotions were. She cuffed Tali on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, they're hauling another in now." She inclined her chin over Tali's shoulder. "We'll run the numbers when all the pods are in, but if the amount in these four is any indication... well..."

Liara, Dr. Chakwas, and several others emerged from the newest shuttle to be brought on board. Tali shared a quick embrace with Liara, who asked if the Commander was yet aboard. Tali could only shake her head. Williams approached, an Alliance officer in tow. "It looks like we've found the last pod on the scanner. The Perugia has been retrieving them in order according to their distance from the distress beacon the skipper sent out. He ran off to get Joker just before I finished helping people to their shuttles. If the pod is out there, he must have gotten the stubborn punk."

They all looked around in relief, counting the minutes until the Perugia could haul aboard the Commander's escape shuttle. Tali mused to herself in disbelief. Again, Shepard had saved everyone, this time just by being there. The nightmare was over, she thought. The losses were difficult bear, all were Alliance members dedicated to their duty and fellow crew. None of the casualties would be forgotten, but as the last pod was brought aboard, the cheers of the living brought a taste of hope.


	3. Chapter 1 Part 1

Chapter 1.1

The heavy bass pulsed, grounded heartbeat to accompany a treble melody. Industrial timbre rose and fell, moving the few organics who had made their way to the dance floor; some on account of alcohol, others on account of grief and the promise of escape. Tali had wanted to dance to the music in Flux once, had even considered purchasing a recording or two, thinking her kin on the flotilla would enjoy the foreign beats. No longer. The irony of living beings moving to a computer generated stimulus was almost as bitter as the taste of turian liquor in her mouth.

The popular bar and gambling club had been damaged in the attack on the Citadel by Saren Arterius and his geth minions, at least, those were the assailants mentioned in the official vids. Tali did not want to think about the finer points of journalistic error at the moment; sometimes it was not appropriate to let the facts get in the way. Only two facts were important at the moment; first, the music was giving her a headache; second, she was loving it.

She leaned to her left, resting her head against the wall, feeling the vibrations of the staccato bore into her head. Even with her eyes closed she could sense that someone was beginning to occupy the bar-stool next to hers. She did not bother to look. It was rare enough for the seat to be filled, possibly on account of nobody wanting to be pick-pocketed by the silent quarian at the end of the bar, more likely on account of the Sokolov X leaning against her leg. "Is your shift over already Garrus?"

The turian only let out a frustrated grunt. He passed his hand over his eyes, rubbing out the tension. After a moment he waved the bartender over. "I need a double, Rita."

"Sure thing, just a second," she replied, forcing a smile through her scarred face. Not all of Flux had recovered from the attack fully. "The usual?"

"Yeah." The turian leaned forward for a moment, resting his head on his folded arms. Sitting back up he said, "You can't even call what they're doing police work, it's a disgrace."

Tali lifted her head off of the wall, happy to feel a slight dizziness replace some the pain she would rather have kept. "Is C-Sec really that much more corrupt than it was before the attack?"

"No, it's not that." Garrus nodded his thanks to Rita as she brought his drink. He took a quick look at Tali and motioned in her direction with his head. Rita nodded and went to fetch another. "Each shift is more like chaos than actual law enforcement. There's still repairs ongoing through most of the Wards. Crime is rampant in the affected areas and we're short staffed. There's so many more humans in the upper ranks now too, it's a wonder the station hasn't fallen apart."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have trouble taking orders from a human, all things considered" Tali replied, waving her thanks to Rita in return for a new drink. Purified and sealed, the turian liquor was safe for quarian consumption. The special can was fitted with a valve and could be inserted into the ration port on the underside of Tali's mask.

"Very funny," Garrus said. "These men are just too damn unpredictable. Some of them integrate without a hitch, with others it feels like you're talking to a bulkhead. Even physically it's a crap-shoot. I saw two in the same office yesterday, one was taller than I am, the other weighed less than you. I know it's too much to ask for all of them to be like Shepard was, but a little consistency would be nice."

Tali remained silent, sipping her drink. "How long were you here before I showed up?" the turian asked.

The quarian seemed reluctant to stop sipping long enough to answer. Finally, "I never left. Not since you did." It was not the first time Tali had sat in the stool at the end of the bar for so long, silent, enjoying a crowded solitude. "Has there been any word on the Sovereign tech harvest?"

"Not really. I received a message from Captain Anderson today, but it was basically the same story. Nothing has been found that can not reasonably be connected to known geth technology."

"That's stupid," Tali responded. "A large enough piece almost landed on my head after we killed Saren. Sounds like..." she trailed off, not caring enough to finish.

"Yeah, normally I'd agree, but I think if anyone would tell me, it would be Anderson. He trusted Shepard, and I think he has an equitable enough mind to trust his former crew."

Tali just shrugged and slid her empty can down the bar towards Rita. Would you like another?" the scarred bartender asked.

"No, thank you. I have a lot to think about, maybe later."

Moments passed, then minutes. Garrus ordered another, and yet another. A strange nightly ritual, regular as the industrial beat of the dance floor, the two ex-shipmates sat in silence. Neither of them could really tell why they did it. They shared little in common. In fact, they did not even particularly like each other. There was, however, a professional respect. They were bound by loyalty, not to legal authorities or government agencies, but loyalty to a cause.

Into the night, if night it could be called on the space station, they sat. The one, nursing a bitter anger. The immediate threat had been defeated, but nobody seemed to want to lead everyone against the underlying danger, the Reapers. The other companion sought nothing more than to feel. She could feel for others. Joker, Williams, Liara, their loss that night some three months ago over Alchera, all these things tugged at the quarian's heart. But for herself, she felt nothing. It was as if the fire of the Normandy, like a pyre, consumed her senses, leaving no relief from oblivion; even animal, physical pain was hardly a bother.

Pain, there was at least some small measure of pain. After a time, hours maybe, she rested her throbbing head on the bar, falling beat by beat below. The foggy liquor rounded the edges of the bass, making it pulse through the surface of the bar, through her helmet, and into her dreams.

She saw silver. After a time, edges sharpened, slowly describing the interior of the SSV Perugia's docking bay. Six empty escape shuttles rested on the deck, fastened by large mechanical clamps. Alliance crew gathered here and there, though not all were assigned to the Perugia. Tali seemed to float above the scene, taking in but a small part at a time, scenes viewed as it were through crystal, a small window through ambient fog.

Engineer Adams stood alone, looking out through the barrier of the docking bay into velvet space beyond. His weathered face looked tired, though he seemed to stand at attention, hands at his sides, shoulders back. His eyes were set tight, yet carried a shine Tali was unaccustomed to see. "What's wrong?" she tried to ask, knowing by the set of his jaw that if time had existed in this strange place, it would be quivering slightly. No voice came. Without time, in stasis, sound had no place. She ached to know what had upset her friend so much, but could only turn away, hoping to see less pain elsewhere.

Dr. Chakwas, tears filling the fine lines of her face sat on the deck, her back against the side of the sixth shuttle. She had fallen there, the strength taken from her legs. One hand was clasped over her mouth, the other stretched out behind her to touch the pod. It was as if she had gone down, half expecting there to be no rock against which she could hope for support. The image was motionless, though shock seemed to pour out of her eyes, a more convincing lament than the frozen tears clinging to her face. Tali could not look away, trying to understand what she was seeing. The doctor had so much experience treating the wounded, what possibly could have unnerved her so?

Liara sat alone, solitude making her slight figure seem even more diminutive. She was obviously crying, unabashed rivulets soaking her smooth cheeks. Like a hurt child she seemed, unconcerned with public display. She appeared to have lost, or to have been lost. Tali wished to comfort her, but could not move closer. Liara had stood by her in their most difficult hour, during the climb up the Citadel Tower, during that awful dance under the Petitioner's Stage, red lightning arcing through the air, some vengeful spirit from beyond the spiral arms. Tali fled.

She saw Joker's face, but it was looking away. She tried to move, to get a better glimpse. It seemed he did not have the strength to make eye contact. All she could see was grief and shame vying for the mastery of his expression. Why? Whatever feelings Joker had ever felt, at least in Tali's experience, he had hidden under his sarcasm and wit. Without these things, stuck in a picture frame of sorrow, he looked as much a child as Liara.

The fog around his face receded slowly, the only motion in this perverse corridor of memory. A gloved, armored fist was holding his collar just under the chin. Joker hung limp in the overpowering grasp, avoiding the gaze of its owner. A shadow over his face became the muzzle of a shotgun, pressed almost to his forehead. Tali wanted to scream, "lookout!", but again, no words could carry through the frozen vignette.

Again, the clear hole moved. Away from joker it traced the arm of his assailant. Finally, she came into view. Chief Williams' face, twisted in rage, shouted her murderous intent louder than any cry it had loosed in the field. Tears hung about, not on her mottled cheeks, but suspended in the still air, thrown off by her impossible lunge.

What transgression, what selfish and hurtful offense could Joker have committed against her? Tali tried to turn away. There was too much loss, too much pain in the faces of her crew-mates. The fog began to obscure the small crystal clear port she had been able to see through, but not before it slid down Williams' torso to her waist, where the arms of five Alliance uniforms struggled to pull her off the unresisting pilot.

Slowly, the sharp pain of her companions faded, replaced by nothing but the dull thud of a mechanical beat. Tali's eyes opened, allowing her to see down the length of the bar. Garrus had left, probably to stumble back to his barracks. A vile, sour taste filled her mouth, parting gift from a turian distillery. She swayed unsteadily to her feet, reaching down to hoist her Sokolov from the floor. It was not until she reached the exit, past the organic drones in their frenzied devotions, that she felt the tightness of dried tears on the sensitive skin of her face.


End file.
